Wait and See

By the time we made it back to Alexandria daylight had long since bled into nightfall. Rick hadn't returned from his visit with the Garbage Pail Kids putting the entire community on edge. The same worry reflected on Deadpool's face I felt in my heart.

"He'll be alright," I said, squeezing her hand. She didn't reply, lips pressed together in a hard line to conceal the way they were shaking. "He will."

She glanced at me, tears brimming in her dark eyes. "Thank you."

"Always."

Carl had taken his role as the leader of Alexandria seriously while we'd been gone. I didn't know if it was lack of faith in our victory that drove the young man to develop a backup plan or just plain survival instinct. Either way I was glad for it.

"Should head inside, get cleaned up," Daryl suggested, looking pointedly at my hastily bandaged arm. "We got this."

I nodded at him, heading for the house. I was halfway to the door leading to the basement when I felt a prickling sensation travel down my spine. Pivoting on my heel I drew my weapon, ready to face whatever, whoever, was watching me.

"I surrender."

I exhaled harshly, glaring at Carl who merely smiled. "Not funny."

He was tucked in the corner of the dining room, a pile of papers in his lap and a pen in his hand. I approached him slowly, taking in his sweaty, pale face, and slumped body language. He looked...troubled.

"What's up?"

He said nothing, deliberately setting the folded piece of paper with "Dad" prominently written across the top on the floor so I could see it. My eyes flicked rapidly between the stack of notes and Carl, brow furrowed. Still, he said nothing, offering me a sad smile that made my heart beat erratically in my chest.

"Carl..."

"I wrote one for you too." I shook my head wildly back-and-forth, closing the distance between us and squatting down in front of him. "You kept your promise to her." My breathing was coming far too fast, my vision tunneling to pinholes, but the young man sitting in front of me showed no sign of distress. "I was so lucky to have you Aunt Alex," he finished, handing me a note with my name written on it.

I froze, my mind focused on only one detail, one word, was.

I ignored his outstretched hand, focusing instead on the small red stain on his shirt near his abdomen. I swallowed hard, reaching forward with agonizing slowness. He made no move to stop me or expedite the process as I gently pulled the shirt up, revealing a white bandage that was soaked through with blood. Peeling back the tape I examined the wound, three gashed of differing lengths traveling diagonally across his belly and ending near his hip. One looked fairly deep, like it might need stitches while the other two were swallow, but no less jagged. The injury was inflamed, red and angry around the edges.

I held my breath, my trembling hand reaching down until it was hovering just over top of the cuts. I held out three fingers, mirroring the path of the wound as it traveled down his side. The spacing was almost identically to what it would look like if someone drug their fingernails across his belly.

Wordlessly I put the bandage back in place, gently lowering his shirt. My legs collapsed under me and I sank to the ground, back pressed against the wall next to him.

"I was trying to help Siddiq." It was like he knew I needed to know the details even though I wouldn't have been able to form the words if both our lives depended on it. "We were on our way back when we stumbled across a few walkers. I slipped, a few got on top of me, and..."

And scratched him.

My head understood what he was telling me, but my heart did not.

"I tried to scramble over a fallen tree...they were reaching for me...I panicked...couldn't think about anything except getting away." He took a deep breath, letting his head fall against the wall. "Siddiq saved me. He killed them, but..."

Who the hell was Siddiq? That was the overriding question rolling around in my brain. Who was this person that Carl risked, no given, his life to save? Whoever he was he was a dead man.

Something else tickled the back of my mind, a seemingly insignificant detail he skipped over like it meant nothing.

"You said there was a tree."

"Yeah."

"And you crawled over it."

"Yeah. Alex I don't..."

"Did it have branches on it, pieces of wood sticking out?"

He shrugged, "Yeah. Why?"

"Are you sure the scratch is from a walker and not the tree?"

For a moment he didn't move, didn't blink, didn't breathe.

"I...I...don't know. I..." A tiny flicker of hope flared to life in my chest he immediately tried to extinguish. "Alex, the chances of it being the tree..."

"Are exactly the same as it being a walker."

Yes, the wound looked like fingernail slashes, but it was hardly conclusive. Only time would tell if his wound was fatal or simply a nuisance.

"Gimme the notes," I ordered, hand outstretched. The weight of the tiny stack of papers was indescribable. "Who else knows?"

"No one."

"Keep it that way." If Deadpool or Rick found out about this I didn't know what they'd do, but it wouldn't be good. "You're gonna be fine."

"You don't know that."

"Since when did you become so pessimistic? Aren't you the one walking around begging people to exchange friendship bracelets with The Saviors?"

He chuckled, taking my hand and squeezing it tight. "Good point." We sat there for a moment, the two of us alone in the house with only our thoughts. "We wait and see."

"Damn straight."

"But..." he hesitated, swallowing hard, "If it goes the other way, I don't want my Dad to have to do it."

When I looked at him all I could see was Lori, dying on the floor, begging me to kill her to save her daughter. Now I was sitting next to her son who was asking the same.

"I...I can't."

He dropped his head, "I know it's a shitty thing to ask, but I need to know you'll be there, even at the end."

"Goddamnit." A single tear streaked down my face. "I promise."

"Thank you," he whispered, "I love you."

"I love you too."

By the time I'd washed off, properly bandaged my wound, and shoved the thought of Carl dying deep into the recesses of my mind the effort to get people and supplies into the sewer tunnel was well underway. Carl stood nearby looking healthy and strong despite the possible fatal secret concealed beneath his shirt.

Swallowing hard I tried to keep my focus on the things I could control. I wasn't a fan of hiding, but Carl's plan if escape was our best option. If The Saviors attacked Negan would expect us to flee to the safety of the woods where he held the decided advantage. We needed to divert his attention, make it look like we were doing exactly what he wanted so we could live to fight another day.

"What's wrong?"

Daryl was an astute man, absolutely nothing escaped his attention. I may be doing a bang-up job concealing my worry from everyone else, but he'd picked up on my nervousness the instant he saw me. I wanted nothing more than to spill my secret while he held me, but we didn't have time. Even worse, any distraction could cost him his life and he loved Carl like a little brother. It would devastate him to learn he might be dying.

"Ask me again later, OK?"

He narrowed his eyes, but nodded, pressing a quick kiss on my cheek. We both startled when we heard the ominous banging on the front gate.

"You may be wondering why the hell your lookouts didn't sound the alarm." Negan paused in typical douchebag fashion, trying to amp up the tension with a dramatic monologue. "See, we are polite. I mean, I don't know when they're gonna wake up from that kinda shot, but they should wake up. So, let's just cut through the cow shit...you lose! It's over. So you're gonna line up in front of your little houses, and you're gonna work up some apologies, and then the person with the lamest one is gonna get killed. Then I kill Rick in front of everybody, and we move on. You have three...count 'em, three minutes to open this gate, or we start bombing the shit out of you!"

"Jesus, that man likes to hear himself talk," I murmured. He continued to whistle into a bullhorn, trying to scare us into submission. Judging by the look on everyone's face it was working.

"Alright, let's go," Carl ordered, handing a pack to the group serving as the decoy. They were tasked with driving a few trucks out the back gate into the woods. If we were lucky The Saviors would follow. If we were really lucky they'd all die in the ensuing ambush. "Get to the woods, halfway to the quarry, and cut the lights. Get enough of a lead on them, hit them, and get away on foot. You know where we'll be. Just have to get the guns, get everyone else here, and we'll meet you there."

"Two minutes, people!" Negan's voice was loud and cocky, and I curled my hands into fists. "Dig deep. I want these apologies to be memorable. Bonus points for creativity. Work up a poem, sing a song. I love that shit."

"Look, we've got guns. We can fight them," Tara insisted, ready to play Alamo.

"We will, but not now." Yet again Apocalypse Barbie's composure surprised me. "Carl's right."

"Carl, we can't just let them have this place," Deadpool pleaded.

"We can. All we have to do is survive the night." Just survive somehow. That was Enid's motto, and now it was ours. "This is my show. You said it. This is my plan, and we're gonna do it. You're all gonna do it. So let's go."

If we had time I would stand there and clap. As it was, I smiled, giving him a nod of respect.

"He's right," I added, every head whipping in my direction. "This is just a place. We can replace it. What we can't replace is each other."

"Well fuck, I'm gettin' all misty eyed." I sighed, glaring at my brother-in-law who didn't look the least bit worried we might not live to see tomorrow. "Ya heard the boy, move yur ass!"

"One minute! One minute!"

I turned, heading to the front gate, but was stopped by two rednecks and a young man posing as a Sheriff, complete with an all too familiar cop eyebrow.

"What the hell ya doin'?"

"Walking."

Daryl glowered at me. He looked ready to explode, but Carl stepped forward, taking control yet again. "I'm going to talk to him."

"Yeah, I don't think so."

"You just said this was my plan," he countered, clearly irritated.

"We're down to about 30 seconds. Do you really want to debate this right now?" All three men looked pissed. "We need more time. I can give us that."

"Ya could also get a bullet b'tween the eyes."

"Thanks Merle, that's really helpful information right now."

"Just sayin'," he grumbled, dragging Carl away so Daryl and I could have a moment to argue in relative privacy.

"Ya can't do this Red. He's gonna kill ya the second he sees ya."

I shook my head in disagreement, "No he won't. You said yourself my bounty comes with fine print that demands I have a heartbeat." Of course, said fine print was only there because Negan wanted to kill me himself, but still, I could work with that. My husband looked ready to implode so I cupped his face with my hands. "I'm the only one who can do this. This is what I do. I'll be alright. I promise."

He didn't respond with words. Instead he suddenly pulled me to him, his mouth covering mine in a sensual kiss that curled my toes and made my head spin. His tongue plunged into my mouth, and I moaned, hands wrapping around his neck.

When we broke apart I didn't much care there was a madman outside our gate and almost certain death in our future. My vagina was staging a coup, trying to overpower my brain and basic common sense. I took several deep breathes, trying to beat back my lust but I'll tell you what, it was no easy feat.

"If y'all are done with the baby makin' we're all 'bout to die," Merle drawled casually.

I leaned to my right, eyes narrowed. "You're the worst cock blocker in history."

"Everybody's gotta talent," he grinned, throwing an arm around his girlfriend whose face was beat red.

Reluctantly I released my husband, staring at his face for a few more seconds. He grinned at me, holding up his left hand expectantly. Laughing I tapped the back of my hand against his, loving the sound our wedding bands made when they hit.

"Give him hell."

"Damn straight."

He gave me a curt nod and I turned swiftly on my heel, jogging to the gate. Stopping next to a pile of leftover construction scraps I grabbed a piece of steel, dragging it behind me. At the gate I propped it up against the privacy fence, adjusting it so it stayed put then took a deep breath and opened the gate.

I'd expected Negan to attack in force, and he wasn't disappointing. Outside there were a gang of Saviors all heavily armed and equally pissed waiting for the go-ahead to end our lives. The second Negan saw me his eyes flared to life, and he dropped the microphone to his side. He took his time walking towards me, eyes dragging over every inch of my body like a lover. I held my tongue, letting him have this one. Every second he was focused on me was another second someone got away.

"Well, well, well, look who finally decided to join the party."

I waved a hand dramatically down my body. "This doesn't just happen ya know?"

"Oh believe me, I know."

His face was casual, relaxed, but I saw the tightness in his shoulders and stiffness in his jaw. He was fighting an internal battle between lust and rage. There was a very large part of himself that wanted to kill me, wrap his hands around my throat and watch the life drain from my eyes. At the same time, he was attracted to me, wanted me, and it was that dichotomy that stayed his hand.

I pursed my lips, raising my eyebrows. "You look like you've had a rough day."

He smiled, stepping closer until the only thing separating us was the thin, chain link fence. "I'll admit, it wasn't the best."

"I'm really sorry to hear that."

"Gotta say, I'm downright shocked to see you standing here Spitfire." He laughed like we were old friends hanging out and not mortal enemies on the cusp of annihilating each other. "I did not think you would make that jump."

"I'm full of surprises."

"That you are...that you are." His breath was hot on my face, the spicy scent of mint tickling my nose. "Nice move back at The Sanctuary. Can't say I saw that one comin'."

I rolled my eyes, "It wasn't a move. I'm just meaner than you."

He stilled, eyes going dark. "Are you though, meaner than me? Are you willing to kill us all, to kill me, no matter the collateral damage?" He paused to let it sink it, hoping his words struck a decisive blow. "Cause I sure as shit am. Y'all came for blood and blood is what you're gonna get."

I shuttered, letting him think his promise unsettled me. On the inside it was all I could do to keep from smiling. Just keep pontificating asshole. By the time he was done we'd be long gone.

"You know what's astounding?"

"What?" he smiled, leaning closer to the fence.

"That no one's tried to put a bullet in the back of your head yet."

He turned to face his followers, howling with insane laughter only the seriously deranged could conjure. "That is what I love about this woman! Her sense of humor gives me the biggest hard on!"

"Hard on" and "love" were replacing Merle talking about my panties at the top of the "Shit People aren't allowed to talk to Alex about" list. The mere notion of either made me cringe, like I needed to cleanse my body if not my very soul. Maybe Gabby had some holy water I could bathe in later.

He was wrong about one thing though. I didn't have a sense of humor. I had sarcasm and a general hate for the majority of what remained of the human race.

There was a big freakin' difference.

"Can we cut the shit?"

He turned to me, face deadly serious for once. "Yeah Spitfire, I think we've both earned that."

Despite appearing to the outside world as a ruthless, take no shit dictator, there was a method to Negan's madness. He honestly believed that by being hard on those who followed him he was helping them be stronger themselves. He may demand total obedience, but he respected those who refused compliance. Thus, his unhealthy obsession with me, infatuation with Daryl, and unrelenting desire to kill Rick.

I'd wondered who he was before. Maybe he was a husband, a father. He could have lived in a quaint suburban neighborhood and been the type of neighbor who let you borrow a cup of sugar.

Or maybe he lived in the city, a high-powered executive type who had acquaintances, not friends. He may have lived in a high-rise building, surrounded by gorgeous women and powerful men, his only concern dollar signs in his bank account.

Whoever he'd been before this I knew one thing with absolute certainty, he wasn't as heartless as he appeared. He had limits; lines drawn in the sand neither he nor his followers were allowed to cross. That simple fact meant his projected persona was something he'd assimilated after the end of the world. Like everyone else, he'd done terrible things in the name of survival.

Because of that he would always be conflicted. He wasn't born to violence like I was. Brutality wasn't scared into the flesh on his back like the Dixon brother's. It was that innate sense of contradiction that spurred me on. As much as I hated to admit it, deep down Negan was still human, and I planned to exploit the ever-loving-shit out of it.

I let my eyes stray behind him, taking in The Saviors armed for battle, blood lust and hatred seeping from there very pores and polluting the air. Sighing heavily, I turned my attention back to him, taking a slow, deep breath, never breaking eye contact.

"I have the strangest feeling your world's not all it seems," I said softly.

His shoulders stiffened and he glanced briefly over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening. Rubbing a hand harshly against his stubbly beard he regarded me with cunning eyes. He was trying to figure out my angle, read my body language, but like everyone else who tried, I was a closed book. I learned a long time ago to tuck those parts of myself away. It was the only reason I was still alive today. He saw only what I wanted him to see.

"I've tried to imagine what else this could have been," he admitted, swallowed heavily, letting his head hang. "But this was never going to go our way."

"No, it wasn't."

The moment our groups crossed paths we were destined for this moment. If they were oil, we were water, completely incompatible, like opposite ends of the same magnet.

"You've opened my eyes Spitfire."

It was all I could do not to recoil in disgust because that seemed totally above-board and not at all worrisome. The next psycho we ran across someone else was batting cleanup. I needed a break from the crazy

"What do you see?" I asked, trying very, very hard not to throw up on his shoes.

"That's the thing...I don't know." His hand curled in the fence as he peered down at me. "But I'm open to the possibility."

"We've got a convoy breaking out! We're on them!" a voice shouted through a walkie talkie.

Negan's eyes widened and I grinned, throwing him a wink before taking cover behind the piece of sheet metal propped up against the fence. He fired four rounds into the fence, kicking it for good measure when he heard the tell-tell ping that signaled the rounds never found their mark.

"Are you ever not going to fall for that?" I yelled, staying low to avoid a bullet.

"I thought we were having a moment Spitfire!"

"We were!" Staying low I spun on the balls of my feet until I could see The Saviors. I fired two quick shots, killing men holding rocket launchers then took off at a dead sprint.

"You fucking bitch! Bombs away!" he roared.

The first explosion destroyed a house, throwing me off my feet and through the air. A ball of red and black smoke puffed high into the air, the heat singing my arms as I slid to a stop in the middle of the street. Again and again they fired, houses, cars, and buildings exploding one right after the other.

I groaned, struggling to gain my footing under the relentless assault. White smoke clouded the street, smoke bombs meant to obscure our true plan. Heavy footsteps pounded on the pavement behind me and I turned, weapon up and ready only to sag in relief when I saw Merle barreling towards me.

"Good to see ya too lil' sister," he said, eyeing my gun.

Suddenly two windows shattered in a house across the street. Merle and I looked at each other then turned and ran. The houses exploded just as an arm pulled me to the ground, my brothers-in-law's bulky body partially covering my own. The explosion ripped through the compound making my ears ring and vision blur momentarily.

"Son of a bitch, that's twice," I grumbled, checking on Merle. A huge truck busted down the front gate, and I grabbed his arm, pulling hard. "Time to go."

There was a cut directly above his right eye that was gushing blood, obscuring his vision. I dragged him to his feet, the two of us leaning on each other as we hobbled towards the sewer grate. Every so often he would dig in a bag slung across his chest, pulling out another smoke bomb and tossing it behind us.

When we got to the entrance of the storm drain we worked together to dislodge the heavy metal ring. Merle jumping down first with me close behind, the two of us struggling to pull the grate back in place.

When we were done we followed the sewer until it opened up, revealing another set of connecting tunnels. Deadpool and Rick were standing in the middle, both looking shell-shocked, but no worse for the wear considering.

I limped forward, further into the winding maze of tunnels serving as our salvation, at least for tonight. There were groups of people huddled together, trying to stay calm and quiet despite the barrage being unleashed above us. Every person I passed made me feel like our sacrifice was worth it.

Someone had the foresight to hang lanterns which illuminated the dark passageway, allowing my eyes to travel from face-to-face looking for the only one that mattered. He was sitting near the end of the tunnel, a little girl with blonde ringlets perched on his lap, head resting on his shoulder as she slept peacefully. Francine, Tara, and Apocalypse Barbie were around him, and it was only then that I felt myself take a breath.

He must have felt me coming because his head snapped up and he was on his feet. He held Nugget in his arms protectively as he watched me approach. When I was close, he extended one arm and I fell into him, burying my head in the crook of his neck. He held me tight, exchanging gruff thank you's with his brother.

"Ain't gotta thank me for that lil' brother."

Francine rushed into Merle's waiting arms, but I kept my head down, savoring the feeling of being held by the man I loved. The smell of leather tickled my nose, and I leaned away, rubbing the vest he was wearing between my fingers. Not just any leather vest mind you, his leather vest, the one with the angle wings. The one that was stolen.

"Where did you..."

The unmistakable feeling of being watched slithered up my spine, and I found it difficult to breath. I pulled away from Daryl, rounding on the man who'd been responsible for my torment. He was standing only a few feet away, head bowed, shoulders hunched, trying to put more distance between us in the impossibly small space.

My skin felt suddenly too tight, too constricting. Sweat beaded at my forehead and my hands shook violently. Every fiber of my being demanded I end his life for what he'd done, here, now.

"Red."

"Gimme Nugget." He hesitated as Rick stepped between us, unsure he wanted his daughter in the middle of this. "Please, give her to me. It's the only way I won't..."

Rick nodded at Daryl who immediately thrust the sleeping girl into my arms. I hugged her to me, turning away from the man who still haunted my nightmares.

"Carl?"

Carl was sitting next to a man I'd never seen before but assumed was Siddiq based on the guilt simmering in his dark eyes. A line of candles burned bright nearby; a stack of canned goods tucked away in the corner.

I took comfort in the fact he didn't look sick, yet. I had no idea how long it took for symptoms to manifest, but the more time that passed without incident the better his odds.

"Dad, this is Siddiq." He gestured to man beside him who looked incredibly nervous which was understandable. Rick was a tough nut to crack, and by the way he was eyeing his son these three had history. "He's going to be staying with us."

I smirked at the finality of his tone, rubbing Nuggets back. It seemed Carl was still in charge for the time being. His father stood there stunned for a moment before he chuckled lightly, offering his hand to Siddiq who hesitantly shook it.

"Rick Grimes."

"Nice to meet you...officially."

The two men moved a few feet away, speaking in hushed tones while Deadpool studied Carl intently. She was observant, she had to know something was...off, but whatever Carl said relieved her worry for the time being. She gave him a brief hug before retreating to a corner with Rick.

I sat down beside him, adjusting Nugget who'd yet to wake. Daryl watched us curiously but made no move to interrupt. He knew something was up, but he was respecting our privacy, for now.

"How are you feeling?" I whispered, stroking Nugget's hair.

"Am I supposed to know what dying feels like?"

I glared at him. "One, that's not funny. Two, trust me, you'd know."

Dying was a unique experience not easily misinterpreted as anything else. I'd done it lots of times, and you never really forgot the feeling.

"I don't feel sick. I don't have a fever. But..."

But, that could change any minute.

"We wait and see," I said, grabbing his hand and interlacing our fingers.

"We wait and see."

Don't worry, you won't have to wait long to find out Carl's fate. Do you think he lives or dies? What do you want to see happen?

Until next time...